"monty" poems
Mark A. Williams
SEPTEMBER 14, 1962 – JULY 23, 2018
___________________________________________________________
Wow Mark,
Was so, so saddened to hear this news. I haven't seen you in over ten years, but as kids, we had some amazing adventures, didn't we? Partying, camping and swimming at the Hudson lime pits. Mowing down on Pizza and pitchers of Pepsi (and as we grew up, BEER!) at Pizza Hut. (We knew the numbers to ALL the songs on that jukebox by heart!) Hanging out and looking at the stars through Budvido's telescope, listening to Doctor Demento. Laughing hysterically as we ran through Monty Python skits as everyone looked on in total puzzlement because THEY wouldn't discover them until YEARS later!
Building underground forts in the North Woods. You, Budvido, Zeke and I playing pinball at 7-11 for hours and hours. Watching Bands, chasing girls and playing Foosball or Pool at the Touch of Class Teen Club. You gave me my first Imported beer . . . a Lowenbrau. I will always owe my passion for those German beers to you and it was fitting that Budvido bestowed you with that moniker.
All through Jr. High, sharing a seat on the school bus. You, Matt, Tom, Buddy and I cruising around late night on our bikes for hours. Hanging around in the Jasmine Lakes sign with hijacked beer or getting free bags of Burgers from Burger Queen when they closed at night! Jousting with shopping carts on our bikes in the Winn-Dixie parking lot. Sitting up all night in Jimi's room after climbing in through the window or going on endless space cruises with him and Raymond in the Toyota.
(RIP Jimi Carlsen)
Sneaking into the nudest Colony and skinny dipping! Always cracking up at the school lunch table. Swimming in my pool and terrorizing my sister and her friends. (Allegedly) Trashing that crook Fast Eddie's produce stand after he refused to pay us for a full day of picking watermelons!
Good times, indeed . . . Some of my most precious memories.
I can only pray that you know that I wouldn't trade my youth or you in it for anything in the world and you will be sadly missed, Lowenbrau, my old friend.
I hope that where you are, your beers are ice cold and that you and Jimi aren't having to glue the Hookah back together.
Jeff Gaines
July 28, 2018
Aug 2, 2018
Aug 2, 2018 at 7:00 AM UTC
Right. Listen to this:
Whenever life gets you down, Mrs. Brown,
and things seem hard or tough,
and people are stupid, obnoxious or daft
and you feel that you've had quite enough!
Just remember that you're standing
on a planet that's evolving
and revolving at nine hundred miles an hour!
It's orbiting at nineteen miles a second, so it's reckoned,
a Sun that it the source of all our power.
The Sun, and you and me,
and all the stars that we can see
are moving at a Million miles a day
in an outer spiral arm at forty thousand miles an hour
of the Galaxy we call the Milky Way.
Our Galaxy, itself,
contains a hundred Billion stars.
It's a hundred thousand light-years side to side.
It bulges in the middle sixteen thousand light-years thick,
but out by us it's just three thousand light-years wide.
We're thirty thousand light-years
from Galactic Central Point,
we go round every two hundred Million years!
And our Galaxy is only one of Millions of Billions
in this amazing and expanding Universe!
The Universe, itself,
keeps on expanding and expanding
in all of the directions it can ****
As fast as it can go,
the speed of Light, you know
twelve Million miles a minute,
and that's the fastest speed there is!
So, remember when you're feeling
very small and insecure,
how amazingly unlikely is your birth!
And prey that there's intelligent life somewhere up in space
because there's ****** all down here on Earth!
Apr 11, 2014
Apr 11, 2014 at 8:23 PM UTC
Sung to the tune of The Lumberjack Song by Monty Python. Back-up Mounties optional.
I never wanted to be Sandra Dee!
I... I wanted to be...
A LESBIAN!
(piano vamp)
Leaping from bush to bush! As they float down the mighty rivers of
Finger and Thumbia!
With my best girl by my side!
The Blond!
The Brunette!
The Giant Snookie!
The Natural Red!
The Little Spinning Skinnamarink!
We'd sing! Sing! Sing!
Oh, I'm a lesbian, and I'm okay,
I like to broadcast that I'm gay.
Chorus: She's a lesbian, and she's okay,
She likes to broadcast that she's gay.
I see straight girls, they're not like me,
But I think that can change.
If they'd just let me kiss them.
Their lives I'd re-arrange.
Mounties: She sees straight girls, they're not like her,
But she thinks that can change.
If they'd just let her kiss them.
Their lives she'd re-arrange.
Chorus: She's a lesbian, and she's okay,
She likes to broadcast that she's gay.
I cut down guys, I wish and hope,
That others would join in.
I wish straight women would think,
that *** with men was sin.
Mounties: She cuts down guys, she wishes and hopes,
That others would join in.
She wishes straight women would think,
that *** with men was sin.
Chorus: She's a lesbian, and she's okay,
She likes to broadcast that she's gay.
Oh I'm a lesbian and I'm OKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK K!
May 1, 2014
May 1, 2014 at 10:07 PM UTC
Slashers Defined
In response to my piece, Slashers, it was requested that maybe I could
reveal at least which band or other info these great guitar players performed for to gain their claim to fame. I don't want to spend too much
time on this defintion, but will give what info I think is pertinent. If you do not know some of the names I have presented to you, and you are a blues,
rock, jazz, fusion guitar fan, I suggest you take the time to listen to some of their work. I have included some of my favorite incredible fusion players that do not have a super star following, but are renowned in their group of fans, probably mostly musicians to some degree.
If you are a frustrated guitar player like I am, do not listen to the likes of Holdsworth, Johnson, Gambale, or Morse unless you love being tortured.
Anyway on with the show.
Eric Clapton – Yardbirds, Cream, Blind Faith, Derek and the Dominos.
Jimmy Page – Yardbirds, Led Zeppe, The Honeydrippers, The Firm
Jimi Hendrix – not only what is, but, what could have been
Alan Holdsworth – Solo jazz fusion player – hot
Steve Howe – Yes, Asia - Progressive rock, jazz –
Bill Nelson – BeBop Deluxe, Solo
Terry Kath – Chicago (25 or 6 to 4) – another sad early departure
Ted Nugent – Amboy Dukes, **** Yankees – The madman
Jim Krueger – Dave Mason Band – solo progressive rock
Eddy Van Halen – Van Halen
Ritchie Blackmore – Deep Purple, Rainbow
Jerry Doucette – Doucette (Mama let him play)
Eric Johnson – Solo – New Age, jazz
Frank Gambale – Australian- Jazz, fusion, rock
Goerge Benson – Jazz
Larry Carlton – Jazz, new age rock
Marc Farner - Grand Funk Railroad
Peter Frampton – Humble Pie, solo
Joe Satriani - New age – solo
Johnny A. - jazz, new age – solo
Danny Gatton – jazz, rockabilly – solo
Chet Atkins – jazz, country
John Mayer – Pop, blues – solo
Neal Schon – Journey
Steve Lukather – Toto
Masyoshi Takanaka – New age, jazz – Japanese solo
Lee Ritnour – Jazz, new age – solo
Leslie West - Mountain, West Bruce & Laing
Monty Montgomery – jazz, blues (accoustic you have never heard)
Wes Montgomery – jazz 40's – 50's
Phil Keaggy – New age Christian
Robin Trower – Procul Harem
Brian May – Queen
Rick Derringer – Montrose, Edgar Winter Group, Steely Dan
Robin Ford – John Mayall, Chick Corea, solo jazz, fusion, blues
Carlos Santana – Santana
Ronnie Montrose – Montrose
Steve Morse – Dixie Dregs, Kansas, solo jazz, fusion
Trevor Rabin – Yes, solo new age
Gomer LePoet...
Jun 10, 2010
Jun 10, 2010 at 1:19 PM UTC
Once upon a time, sweet soldier, we were everything!
We were shy glances and piercing stares,
bitter coffee and sweet cider,
nervous laughter and easy smiles.
We were all-nighters and painfully early mornings,
utter exhaustion and unexplainable energy,
distracted work days and focused only on each other.
We were photographs and video recordings,
magic tricks and storytelling,
Monty Python and Charlie the Unicorn imitators.
(We were total dorks!)
We were late night jogs and wrestling,
motorcycle rides and beach-walking,
seekers of adventure and last minute decision making.
We were short pecks on the cheek,
and long passionate kisses,
fierce embraces and soft caresses.
We were soul-searchers and wound-healers,
dreamers and risk-takers,
keepers of secrets and whisperers of truth.
We were sanity and craziness,
possibilities and improbabilities,
with everything and yet nothing going for us.
We were in love.
Jan 14, 2013
Jan 14, 2013 at 4:46 PM UTC
Miles and
Miles and miles
Constant fake smiles
And so much small talk
When there's big talk to be had
Tired feet and sore driving hands
Hundreds of dollars on coffee
**** where are my smokes?
Lost under the seat
Most likely
Monty
In the car please
Need to leave this place
Moving on to the next state
Both geographically, and of mind
Leave these faded memories behind
And move on to the new chapter
Of my life's extremely cheap
And poorly constructed
Scrapbook
Map out
New territories
And fresh beginnings
To feel like I'm productive
Because normally, I sit in silence
I wonder what people with lives do
From one day to the next
Do they have fun with
Staying constant?
Stable?
Jul 5, 2014
Jul 5, 2014 at 8:39 PM UTC
Having filled my personality on beer, **** art and awkwardness
my lungs hung heavy and my morals were slightly isolated
as I briefly considered the most direct root
to this girl with the ******* and the possibility to access
which I knew would be quite the test, as I was by far the worst dressed
with my ripped up jeans and hair a mess.
So I finally let these thoughts digress, a decision that I know was best.
For you should not test the strength of my testosterone,
It should always be firmly placed right back at home.
But it was at this moment where I noticed the difference between state and private school boys.
I was outside smoking the smallest, smuttiest rolled up cigarette
When a boy with a name like ‘Monty’ walked past holding a cigar the size of a jumbo jet,
The feelings I felt, both hate and detest,
As he waltzed right up to the girl with the ******* and muttered a charm under his breath.
So with a drunken heart, I went to order a ***** straight and smart.
But the bar was closed, and my song was sung, so with my head well hung and ego stung,
I left the kings and queens of that party, to fulfil their dreams.
As I fulfilled mine with a river gardens Chinese, the finest cuisine.
Feb 7, 2010
Feb 7, 2010 at 7:15 AM UTC
i'm just bored of having to feel what other people
feel, limiting the realism of things,
a woman with a child's severed head in moscow is
sensationalism to them, but when they get a mild
reality, Kashmir chilly on the palette, they make
cheap Monty Python jokes to scare the facts away...
the so-called satire that requires canned laughter;
was given a library of 25 philosophy books,
not one of them by an englishman,
went as far back as the greeks,
i guess the version of english egalitarian
was not worth a communism,
somehow the two synonyms became
antonyms... 25 volumes of philosophy,
not one english philosopher...
the english intellectualise: i.e.:
regurgitate facts....
the english do not philosophise,
i.e. instead they cite facts... they're intellectuals by rite
of citation, the citation of facts,
they can't philosophise i.e. not cite (facts)...
they intellectualise, they cite and recite
facts with a dogmatism that fears a demolition
and no rekindling of interest...
to philosophise is to avoid citation:
to work from nothing,
the english cannot philosophise because
they intellectualise and by intellectualism
they cite and recite facts like an ave maria
pi = 3.14... Galileo's spectacles...
etc. the english cannot philosophise, they're
just intellectuals, they cite and recite facts,
they cannot engage from non-citation or non-recitation
of a fact, like a greek might ignore a stone
and fool himself claiming it's nothing,
the english cannot allow a confiscation of
a subject and treat it as nothing,
it would not make sense as to why charles i
was the precursor of the french aristocratic en masse
meeting with the guillotine if darwinism wasn't
discovered on the islands of Galapagos...
although i beg to differ with a thought on Gauguin
and the islands of Tahiti: make a turtle yawn
and you'll jinx yourself a blessing to live to be one hundred years old.
Feb 29, 2016
Feb 29, 2016 at 10:49 PM UTC
She’ll make cheeseburger pie and zebra cake for your birthdays.
She’ll go to Vermont and wears water shoes down the stairs of mossy rocks.
She’ll lay a towel to the side of the mountain with streams cascading down.
She’ll baby you and treat you like when you were 5 years old.
She’ll introduce you to Shakespeare and Monty Python.
She’ll fall in love with your school shows.
She’ll talk about dogs she had as a child while you sit with yours.
She’ll tell stories of when your dad was a child with his little brothers.
She’ll never leave your heart.
Feb 7, 2013
Feb 7, 2013 at 3:51 PM UTC
1. Understand Weather.
(Strangers on a bench,
Looking up.)
“Cirrus, I think.
Cirrocumulus?”
“Stratus surely.
Or altocumulus.”
(You must also hate the cold
And the sun,
And always wish the current season
Was a different one.)
2. Never Be Honest About Stuff That Hurts.
Pain so bad
Can’t even **** –
“How are you, Arthur?”
“Brilliant, thanks!”
3. Have An Opinion On These People
Katie Price (Feminist? Witch?)
Kate Moss (Goddess? *****
Stephen Fry (Snob? Wilde?)
Frankie Boyle (Offensive? Mild?)
4. Never Talk About Money.
“So.” An American asks. “How much do ya make?”
“I…I…Oh My God look at that dog over there that has a face like a pancake!”
5. Learn How To Apply The Class System To Cigarettes.
Pipe – Monty Withnail
Silk Cut – Comfortably Middle.
Lucky Strikes – Probably not British.
B&H; – Shops at Lidl.
6. Secretly (Or Openly) Enjoy The Royal Family
“So, did you hear what they called the baby?”
My boyfriend shrugs and says -
“I don’t give one tiny ****
“They named him George. Isn’t that twee?”
“Aw ******* hell, I had a tenner on Louis!”
7. Hey Jude.
If all else fails,
At the end of the night,
Sing na-na-na
And it’ll be alright.
8. Never Complain About Your Meal
“Hm. These mussels look a bit suspect.”
“How’s your meal, Sir?”
“Perfect!”
9. Always Hate The French, (Even If Your Own Mother Is French)
Numberplate 'F'
On an articulated lorry.
“Stuck up…onion…bastards.”
(I’m sorry mum, I’m so sorry!)
10. ‘Jerusalem’
Mime a sword in your hand,
Bang your chest with devotion,
Wave the sword about,
Sing with emotion.
Sep 27, 2013
Sep 27, 2013 at 10:35 AM UTC
i am slipshod Monty
wonking the gossamer lust of ill fortunes
strewn to all winds
a lisp of beacon
churning in the midriff of your titan virus
crumbs of ore
bejewel the wet femur
of our last corpse.
your merry Shelly
is morose
than less
god.
bending runes; you nip tink and **** from odd drums
summoning the haven of your wrong
repenting in the
pent up
down.
just 'cause.
Oct 27, 2012
Oct 27, 2012 at 12:31 PM UTC
After the well-know,
charismatic,
extremely photogenic,
wonderfully articulate,
jeweller-turned-gardener,
your mother dotes on,
this cat is named.
He is none of the above
I should say
but I like him.
He reminds me of my late cat
Poppy, a more gauche pusscat
you’d be hard to find.
Poppy was a farm cat
of uncertain progeny.
Monty is certainly better bred
but (as we say in West Yorkshire)
‘daft as a brush’.
And now for the T.S.Eliot bit . . .
**(in the style of
Old Possum’s Book of Practical Cats)**
Curled up upon the green chair
With his head against his paws
You can see his body breathing
Up and down
He’s been busy all day long
Doing absolutely nothing
Save a bit of this a bit of that
And washing clean his paws.
Life’s so hard
For such a busy cat,
When you’re asleep in bed
He’s about and out
Networking the side streets
Monty likes to know the scene.
These cats could teach us all
A thing or two.
In the morning he may be dozy
But you should see him after dark
Sharp and bright and really
On his toes.
Feb 8, 2013
Feb 8, 2013 at 12:55 AM UTC
this is my favorite pair of jeans.
they fit my legs tight and then loose and the color keeps to itself.
this is my favorite sweater.
it keeps me warm and it’s the color of moss.
i’ve been wearing the same shirt for three days, but i’ve showered between those days
i’ve been seeing you for a week but you’ve talked to your girlfriend between those days.
my neighbor threw my clothes on the floor cause he needed the dryer
so now i have to wash them all over again and i don’t have $3,
the machine ate two so i only have one left
your copy of rear window is on my floor.
your copy of monty python is on my floor.
thick hair, thick hands, thick wool,
i’m thinning but you’re only getting warmer
i’m tired of men entering my life and taking all of my heat right before winter comes.
Dec 12, 2018
Dec 12, 2018 at 4:26 PM UTC
I am French and Coloradonian.
I strongly dislike the color orange. Purple is better.
I love vanilla ice cream.
I don't like chocolate flavored anything. It tastes weird to me.
I haven't watched TV in nearly five years.
I haven't gone a day without music.
I am married to my guitar. Her name is Nora.
My best friend is Monty the Dog. He is a dog.
I am attracted to women.
I am a ****** to men.
I think red heads are ******* hot.
I like the number 50.
Facebook is evil. The NSA watches you.
I used ****** for six months.
I snorted ******* for a few months as well.
I smoke *** currently.
I smoke cigarettes currently.
If I had to give up everything, and could only keep one thing...
...I'd keep coffee.
I love Coffee.
My sister Chelsea tried to **** me. *****
I am random, and can't keep on one subject for too long.
Ooh! Shiny things!
Poetry has kept me on this road for years.
I once wrote a song about pizza. It's probably my best song.
I don't like pizza.
I used to have long hair, but it tried to strangle me in my sleep, so I killed it.
For some stupid reason, my mother named me Abigail Hollow.
(last name excluded)
Why would she do that? I don't know.
I still have a razor flip phone. All the rage, years ago.
I haven't slept on a bed in four years.
I order McDonalds food for Monty the Dog. He's the only one who eats it...
The only girl I ever truly loved died of cancer.
My mom wants me to come home.
I don't believe in God, but I love everybody just the same.
Except Steve Buscemi. He scares me.
What do you think of me so far, my lovely fellow poets?
Jul 15, 2014
Jul 15, 2014 at 6:22 PM UTC
Dance me a song dreck thinker.
Let the ocean wash away your thoughts of rain.
Understand scars are forever but so are diamonds.
And every night you'll dream again.
You'll never comprehend the dark like the moon
Or the light like the sun.
Learn that only Monty python knows the meaning of life, and where the holy grail is.
So stop searching and just appreciate uncertainty.
Then sing me a dream because I'm tired of screamed night terrors.
Jul 28, 2013
Jul 28, 2013 at 10:32 PM UTC
She was a vegetarian
Cigarette-smoking drunk
Who fell in love easily
With any handsome hunk.
She was a bible-quoting
Daily Zodiac-addicted muse
In dungarees, leather chaps
And covered with tattoos.
Like a character from Monty Python
She always had pentagram earrings on.
And she loudly wondered constantly
Why nobody ever took her seriously.
She looked like a biker mama,
But she never owned a bike.
A personality like barbed wire
She was so very hard to like.
She growled like a take-off
Out of Cape Canaveral.
Why she wasn’t popular she
Could never understand at all.
She had the strangest body parts
Tattooed or heavily pierced
She looked unlike a human being
And she thought that was fierce.
She walked like The Thing
From the Fantastic Four
And I was never sure she knew
What shower was created for.
Her entire vocabulary was
Based on waste matter and ***
I really do believe she was
The product of an ancient hex.
May 4, 2016
May 4, 2016 at 9:40 PM UTC
*Did I love you when we first met?
No.
That sounds cold but, truth is often painful.
Was I looking for someone like you?
No.
That is a brutal truth.
Were you persistent?
Yes.
Did you win my heart?
Eventually. With roses? No, with chocolates? No.
You won my heart, by accepting me.
You won me by being you.
I love how our love grew.
I wasn't looking for love, it somehow found me.
Did you write me poems?
No.
Sing me love songs?
No.
Did we have anything in common?
No.
But, love grew, desire bloomed.
We needed each other, we still need and want each other.
Over coffee, Monty Python and a gentlemanly kiss on my cheek
I knew that love was real, it crashed into my heart like a wrecking ball.
Is love like the movies?
Is it ********
It's more like a Wile E Coyote cartoon.
You bought an ACME love boulder!
Meep meep!*
Jun 3, 2014
Jun 3, 2014 at 7:06 PM UTC
I mentioned Monty Hall
In what I thought was casual conversation.
Maybe I interjected,
...yeah, like Monty Hall.
But still,
A woman taking a drink of ***** gurgled,
A fella rolling a spliff snickered;
Even the dart thrower stopped;
They chorused in unison, Who?
**** Monty Fecking Hall.
Door #'s 1, 2, 3?*
The few listening were confused.
Maybe it was the tone I used.
One face had a glimmer,
Almost a gesture of recognition
Tracing his pierced eyebrow.
*Really!
Monty Fecking Hall.*
One day, in the not too distant future,
They'll hear,
What's a Fecking Jedi?
Dec 19, 2017
Dec 19, 2017 at 9:35 AM UTC
Moses descends from the rugged heights of Sinai bearing the tablet
"You shall not ******
Nietzche organizes the cobwebs of his mind to declare morality is his own
"God is dead"
Even Monty Python creates mockery and mishap from "The Meaning of Life."
A Macedonian, a **** a Patriot
with Intelligence, Voice, and Sword
step over the caution tape and march nations
into the deepest valleys atop the heights of Everest.
The likes of Augustine put their chips on the table for patience
but Patton has a pair of aces and the academics fold before the river.
The denotations of Good and Evil are forever
infinite and versatile to the dismay of the Philosopher,
while God himself
is denied power
to undo the past.
Humanity lives
on the nourishment
of knowledge.
Mar 27, 2010
Mar 27, 2010 at 8:51 AM UTC
You like mangos
And plums
Anime
And documentaries
Fuckin' Monty Python
And classy cuisine
God knows when we fell in love
Somewhere between the face masks
And the endless laundry maybe?
The late night runs to Perkins
Or the early morning love making?
It's a beautiful blur of memories
That dance along my heart and mind
That I wouldn't trade for anything
You like olives
And cold brew
Sleeping in
And video games
Staying inside
And the smell of coconuts
It's never been taxing to love you
It's the easiest thing I can do
You make love fun
Between the out of town drives
Hole in the wall coffee dates
And movie marathon nights
It's all that heart warming Hallmark ****
That you get in a greeting card
You like donuts
And sandwiches
Memes
And making love
Cool breezes
And me
Aug 7, 2018
Aug 7, 2018 at 3:41 PM UTC
Thank you for your time here.
You were amazing; you are and were fascinating.
You are and will be remembered dearly.
Goodbye, Monty Oum; in our memories everlasting.
Feb 2, 2015
Feb 2, 2015 at 10:27 PM UTC